Secret Baby: Billionaire Stepbrother (2 page)

“What’s his name?” Beck asked, as the baby stuck a finger into his mouth, and Beck moved his lips on the tiny digit, making the baby look closer with curiosity.

“Not sure,” Phyllis said, from across the island.

“Bart,” Millie said softly, from behind Beck’s shoulder.

Just the sound of it and its feminine quality made Beck wanted to turn and push her up against the wall to kiss her. He felt soft parts of her as she rounded and pulled the baby from him.

“Just Bart, not like Bartholomew or anything,” she said, defensively. “Sometimes I call him Bartie though.”

He felt her slightly shaking as he looked down on her. “You shouldn’t even start that nickname, Mil, you’ll give him a fucking complex.”

At first she looked uncertain, then she looked accusingly as she swung the kid to her hip, which left a free hand she could raise to slap his upper arm.

“Don’t cuss in front of him, Beck.”

The many shades and emotions of Millie, and he loved them all. Beck nearly growled under his breath, amending his thinking: had, as in the past, loved them all. Not so much nowadays.

Still— “I’ll stop, if you stop torturing his future chances with girls’ by using that nickname.”

Then his stepsister did the lip bite of her full bottom lip. Just kill him then and there. That little move of hers was how it all fucking started. But she drew him closer with her uncertainty.

“Are you teasing, Beck, or do you really think—”

God, he’d missed her, and he couldn’t afford to think that way any longer.

“Maybe cut it off when he’s older ... three or something.”

The beginning of her smile did what it always started to do to him, but her mom’s voice butted in. “Who is the father anyway? How old is he?”

Millie’s beautiful face crumbled, and that’s when Beck saw it in her for the first time; fear. And it wasn’t a small feeling inside her either by the looks of it, but huge.

“Oh, I think he needs his diaper changed,” Millie exclaimed, and she whirled around and practically ran from the kitchen.

Beck settled his hip on the edge of the island as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching her fucking amazing and very round ass sway away. Jesus, she’d not had such a fine ass before the kid.

His stepmom set a bowl of guacamole in front of him, which his dad had been working on.

“Well, that question lit a fire under her ass,” she said, with lots of speculation in her voice. She nudged his shoulder. “Did she ever tell you about that little bundle? I know you two are super close.”

If she only knew how close,
Beck thought, she’d scream. And now with her and his dad back together, it shot any chances Millie and him might have had.

“Fuck no,” he muttered to his stepmom. Then for crystal clear clarification, he added, “This is the first I have talked to her since before you and dad split up.”

His stepmom raised an eyebrow. “Okay, hmm. I do like the name Bart, and that little squirt reminds me of somebody. Maybe I will figure it out, because I bet she’ll never tell.”

“I’m just happy we have a grandbaby,” Murray declared, bringing over the chips.

Beck had only been there a few hours, but he’d already figured out that his dad was doing penance to his stepmom, so old dad was a “yes” man. And his dad had already hit him up for money.

“We have to celebrate your buyout, boy,” his dad said, slapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll go to AJ’s Pub tonight and get some champagne or something.”

Right then Beck moved his thumb secretly on his phone so it would sound as if a text had come in.

“I have to get this, dad,” he muttered, then he followed Millie’s trail out of the kitchen.

Chapter Two

“Here, let me get that,” Beck said, from behind my right shoulder.

I had Bart on my other hip, while I was struggling with the other hand to pull Bart’s playpen out of the back of my SUV. I knew I should have just gotten in the car and fled, but I was so afraid that might raise more suspicions, so I stayed even though it felt like I was standing in front of a firing squad.

“I can get it,” I said stubbornly, with some inner need inside me about not having him help me with anything to do with Bart.

“Yeah you can. But you’re going to let me fucking ... I mean damn well do it,” Beck uttered in his I’m-taking-no-shit voice.

A voice that always made me quiver in places I shouldn’t. I’d always wondered where Beck had gotten his forceful manliness from, because it wasn’t from Murray. I guessed Beck just had it naturally.

I supposed Beck knew me well enough to know I was caving, when I said, “Well, thanks for trying not to cuss, but saying ‘damn’ might not be good either.”

I stood back and let Beck haul the playpen out, as if he was using only one finger, and I didn’t watch his upper arm muscle bulge when he did it. Just then Bart pulled my hair so hard I winced, because his little fist got tangled, and I started hopping around.

“Ouch, ouch, Bartie!” I exclaimed.

I couldn’t turn my head to look because of the way Bart was hooked into my hair as I tried to feel with my other hand to get him loose, while he unknowingly pulled so hard it brought tears to my eyes.

Then Beck’s big hand was there. “Hold still, you two,” he ordered.

Like an expert or something, he slowly freed Bart’s hand from being tangled in my hair. Once Bart’s hand was free, Beck’s knuckles rubbed my skull on the most painful spot, as he asked, “You okay?”

I dared looking up into his gray eyes and became lost for several seconds, as I murmured, “Yes, thanks. Usually it takes months to get good enough to figure out how to fix something like that with babies. You seem to have a knack.”

Why had I said that?
Was I insane?

I had to keep Beck, Bart, and any closeness between them so far apart, it
never
happened. But damn it that was hard to do with him standing right next to me, and looking at my lips as if—

“I’ll bring all your stuff in, you take Bart inside, it’s getting too cold out here for him,” Beck said, with his features closing off and the desirous look leaving him.

I knew Beck’s hot looks from experiencing months of them, and he had nearly had one, which he’d then stopped. I really needed to learn from Beck, I thought, retreating to cart Bart back into the house.

I went back to my room, which looked like I was still in high school, and put Bart on the bed, where he promptly tried to roll off. It was a good thing I had brought his playpen, because it was going to work as his bed for the trip.

Beck hauled everything from my car up into my childhood room, until the last thing, my suitcase, would not fit. He stood with it by his feet, right outside the door.

“You need all this for just one baby?” he asked, with his dark hair tousled and his handsome face not revealing much, like what he thought about me suddenly having a baby.

I nodded solemnly. “And it still might not be enough. I’m sure I’ll have to make a couple trips to the store.”

For the first time since I’d arrived, Beck’s features relaxed slightly, and I knew I’d managed to nearly make him smile.

“Well, some of it’s going to have to come into my room or you two won’t fit in there.”

I nearly giggled. “Okay, I have to have the playpen and I’ll need room to open it, and then I need that bag so I can express.”

I realized what I’d said too late—and who I had said it too. As I caught Beck’s lifted eyebrow and intense interest, which made me blush, damn it.

“It’s a natural thing,” I said, defensively.

“You don’t breast-feed?” His voice was deeper than before.

I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with my stepbrother, and I didn’t know how to get out of it. But pictures of him watching me do it flashed in my mind, and somehow my body thought that was erotic. Then my body flushed and my already damp panties from being around Beck got damper.

“No, I had to work,” I said, and I felt myself release a little bit of milk, my eyes widened and I slapped my hands to my breasts. I wanted to moan.

“You okay?” Beck asked, and I could hear he was shoving things out of the way to move into the room.

No, I just want you to suck on my milky nipples,
I thought insanely.

But I held my hand up to stop him, and out loud I gasped, “No, I’m okay, really. It’s just, um, time to, ah, express. So ah—”

I looked up and saw Beck had backtracked to the doorway. I could tell by the look on his face that he knew exactly what was happening to me, and it had affected him like it had affected me.

Then he asked harshly, “Where’s the damn father?”

It was a demand, and it stunned me, because I’d never considered anyone would ask for some stupid reason. I’d been so focused on making sure no one guessed the truth.

So I stuttered like I was in high school. “I-I ... just some guy from a bar.”

Then I grabbed Bart and held him to my chest, hugging him. I knew my gaze was pleading with Beck to just accept my explanation, and leave it alone.

I muttered more, “I was a mess. You know why. I made a stupid mistake.” Then I looked away from him. “I’m not going to regret it though, because Bart means everything to me.”

When I looked back, Beck was gone.

***

Then things just got worse, because after Bart’s bottle and nap, mom and dad insisted on dragging all of us to AJ’s Pub. I’d gotten so caught in my own drama that I hadn’t known Beck had such good news.

Apparently he’d sold his company that had taken all his time for several years. That had been good for us, until that fateful night, because it had kept us apart much of the time. I had hated his company and work, and resented it back then.

Still, I didn’t think taking Bart to AJ’s was such a hot idea, but they all vetoed me, and I knew kids did go there a lot with their parents. It really was an old fashioned neighborhood bar.

“Beck, I don’t know,” I said, still unsure, while Beck lifted Bart in his car seat up over the heads of some patrons leaving AJ’s. They must have known mom and dad, because they all stopped to gab behind us.

Beck kept us going, and I couldn’t help but have feelings as if the three of us were a family unit, and it made me secretly yearn.

Beck headed to a booth and he set Bart down, who was sucking on a bottle looking at everything, then I scooted in next to Bart and Beck sat across from us. The bar was kind of busy, but most of the people were standing up by the bar in groups of three people deep.

Bart was fascinated by the new place and he struggled to sit up so I put a hand behind his effort.

“Hey, buddy, cool stuff, huh,” Beck said to Bart.

I had noticed whenever Beck’s deep voice sounded, it got Bart’s attention.

Then Beck looked at me. “We’ll give the folks their fifteen minutes, and then we’ll find an excuse to get out of here.”

I looked at him gratefully. “Thanks, Beck.”

Beck looked out into the bar as I studied his profile. He’d obviously taken up not shaving his heavier whiskers twice a day like he used to, so now he had the shadow a lot of guys sported. I liked it, damn him. It made him look even hotter.

Bart swayed and I looked at him a second, steadying him, before I turned my gaze back.

“So really congratulations,” I said to Beck. “Murray said you sold your company.”

Beck turned to look at me. “That’s all he said?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, wondering what else there was to say. But Beck just looked at me with his edged features.

“So I hope you’re happy about it,” I prompted; I knew he’d worked so hard.

“It’s not as simple as just selling the company, Millie,” Beck said.

He made me instantly curious, but then we were interrupted, and he didn’t get to finish, as the cocktail waitress swooped in on us.

“Beck! Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been
so
long,” Roxanne Zimmer exclaimed, at least she used to be Zimmer in high school, and she used to be the head cheerleader, and she used to date Beck.

Then in a voice she’d always used with me and bordered on snotty, she added, “Here with your little sister.”

I opened my mouth at the same time Beck did, to say what we always said, that we were steps and not related. But we looked at each other and we seemed to come to some silent agreement that we were older, we were adults, and we didn’t have to freaking remind everybody about that all the time.

It was their issue, not ours. We had enough issues. Trust me.

“You work here?” Beck asked, and I wanted to hug him at the tone he’d used, which said he couldn’t believe how the mighty had fallen.

Instantly Roxanne got it, and her back straightened, and then her cheeks got red.

“It’s temporary,” she snapped. Then she added, “I’m just helping them out. But you’re too big now for this small town and its drama.” Then she looked over at the baby, and in an ugly voice said, “It’s indecent, if that is yours and your sister’s.”